


Dreamer's Disease

by pantaloonwarrior



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Anal Sex, Anxiety Attacks, Barebacking, Blurryface Era, Bottom Josh, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Roadshow World Tour, Established Relationship, Impotence, M/M, Sexual Dysfunction, Some Humor, Top Tyler
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 10:27:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18247976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pantaloonwarrior/pseuds/pantaloonwarrior
Summary: “You feel warm,” Josh agrees as he tests Tyler’s forehead. “Do you need anything else?”Tyler pulls the blanket up to his chin to hide himself from the chill that probably doesn’t even exist in their room. “Just sleep. Honestly I’m still not feeling very well,” he admits.Josh hums. “I know.”





	Dreamer's Disease

**Author's Note:**

> I took a break from my other multi chap fic to write this at some point, and surprisingly had the heart to finish it now. Enjoy?
> 
> Title from Nothing's Impossible by Walking on Cars.

Josh wakes up to the noise of pills hitting the bottom of the glass. He makes no noise of himself, but the sharp intake of breath is enough to tell Tyler that his head is off the pillow, looking for and then at him. Tyler sighs in disappointment, trying to close out the piercing sound that only doubles its trouble in the quiet of the night, as it seemed to him. And Josh, now he’s a heavy sleeper, yet he always seemed to stir to things that Tyler wished he wouldn’t.

Just why did Tyler add the pills before water, he doesn’t know. He can’t think straight. Thus the two bounce off of the hard surface and tangle in their trap, knocking on the walls as if to shatter the thin cup. And maybe, it’s no surprise that they both jumped after all.

In the dark sheets rustle and Josh’s face lights up with a ghostly blue light from his phone at the same time Tyler frees lukewarm water from the tab. With his thumb, Tyler taps the screen of his own device to see; the black lock screen has mercy on his sensitive eyes, but Tyler gulps anyway, seeing the tablets swirling in his grip.

He’s always had hard time swallowing pills, so he tries to avoid it at any cost. But now he’s out of the soluble ones, and his back is against the wall.

Tyler moves his tongue cautiously, trying to get rid of the nightly dryness in his mouth. He’s always been the type to fight the pounding in his head as long as he could to escape taking medication, like going to take some fresh air or sleeping, and usually it worked - but only usually.

He tried the latter today and went to bed early, only to wake up to a pain much worse than what it originally was.

He can’t fight anymore.      

Tyler drinks cautiously, and the pills get stuck on the mouth of his throat. Of course they do. Tyler chokes, coughing for what little he can without getting water everywhere and doubling over to lean against the small kitchen counter they have in their hotel room. The liquid pushes its way nearly out of his nostrils at the same time his eyes water, and really, he can’t embarrass himself any more than he already has, spitting the two back into the glass.

But Josh doesn’t laugh, even though Tyler wants to cry. He nearly bolts to the bathroom to save Josh from witnessing his struggles, but the other is already talking.

“Try putting them on your tongue and then drinking the water,” comes the soft voice through the dark, and Tyler scowls at the suggestion.

“I’m not gonna dig the pills back up,” he says, breathing heavily a few times before throwing his head back again, muscles tense but managing to down the rest with less trouble. However they press against the apple of his throat, and Tyler screws his eyes shut, taking more water and sipping on it to get rid of the gross feeling, swallowing around the tightness in his throat.

The glass comes back empty, Tyler is grateful; it was easier than usual, after all.

Skol, Tyler graces grimly. He’s getting sick, and he knows it.

He can only brace himself for the time being. Tyler turns back, craving the warmth of the bed. The rustling sound of the disgustingly clean bedsheets work as his guide in the dark as Josh goes to open the pile of blankets for him to enter.

“It’s 2am,” Josh informs him as if Tyler didn’t already know. “Can’t sleep?”

Tyler shouldn’t, but he’s an idiot and shakes his head. The motion saws against his brain like a pendulum’s swing. His face tightens as he fumbles in the pitch black room, the floor a soothingly steady surface in the otherwise swinging space.

“My head,” Tyler blurts, realizing that Josh might not see him. “The pain woke me up,” he continues with a defeated sigh, crawling back under the covers. “The time zone thing is really fucking me up I guess. That, or I’m hosting a flu, or...”

He shrugs warily.

“You feel warm,” Josh agrees as he tests Tyler’s forehead. “Do you need anything else?”

Tyler pulls the blanket up to his chin to hide himself from the chill that probably doesn’t even exist in their room. “Just sleep. Honestly I’m still not feeling very well,” he admits.

Josh hums. “I know.”

His mood has been terrible. Getting up on the wrong side of the bed has definitely been a constant struggle for Tyler. More often than not, his foul behavior has gotten to him during their interviews, either spacing out or butting heads with people and their questions or completely stripping himself from any control to keep himself from rebuking their crew members during rehearsals.

It gets to Josh, too. At one show, Tyler had moved fans out of the front row and told the security to get them out of his sight, just because he felt like it. No one had scolded him about it afterwards, but Tyler could feel how Josh’s drumming had gotten harder with anger getting into his muscles, telling him to stop and come back to his senses.

But Josh didn’t say anything. Instead, he had given him a single meaningful look after their show, and dawned what a stupid mistake he’d done. He had fucked up. He had fucked up so bad.

After that, he had had an anxiety attack with himself, just losing control of everything; being an ass on stage doesn’t build a character, Tyler knows this, but the constant touring has stretched him thin, and he feels himself losing amidst it all, making it harder to dodge the pressure and endure it.

Even still, the nervous breakdown didn’t come with a bell hanging on its neck, hitting him with full force with no warning at all.

He’d have a dream despite having lost his sleep. A quiet hall and an ocean of people, staring at him- standing and waiting for him to burst and returning his frantic gaze with something like fear and uncertainty now.

Tyler couldn’t take it, waking up in strangling sweat with five hearts hammering their way out of his rib cage. Feeling the urge to flee, Tyler had sprung up and paced the room only half awake and aware of his surroundings. Waking up to the ruckus, Josh had pulled him back to bed, and held him until his panic would dissipate. It had taken nearly a day’s worth of hours. It was supposed to be their day off, a rare occasion these days, and they wasted it on him and his racing thoughts that he was unable to catch up and push back down himself.

He didn’t know what to do with himself, didn’t know if he was a worthy enough to get back up on that stage, to step in front of the people he loved.

But Josh’s arms had held him, rocked him, soothed him like no one else could. Tyler could barely remember the kisses on the back of his head and Josh’s gentle fingertips moving up and down his chest to get his pulse back to normal. The day was a blur, and by the time he woke back to reality, it was dark outside before he even realized that the sun had gotten up in the first place.

It made him relieved but disoriented, melting the days and nights together.

It’s night again, Tyler knows this, but they can’t sleep and it’s all his fault. They’re lying apart from each other, flat on their backs, giving each other the space they need. Tyler’s feet are cold. He knits his toes against the fluffy blanket, hoping to rub warmth into them as he waits for the pills to kick in, swallowing cautiously. He’s fine if he doesn’t have to move to upset his head, keeping his eyes closed.

So he does just that. Deep breaths, Tyler is unknowingly matching his pace with Josh’s. It helps him to relax. From the sounds alone Tyler is able to tell that Josh is moving again, and it’s then when he feels his warm hand intertwining with his own. And Josh soothes him, softly rubbing his thumb against his hardel.

Slow circles. He can definitely fall asleep like this.

Below their hotel room window, a horn goes off. The sound pushes a frustrated hush of air through his stuffy nose, making him twist and moan in frustration. But Josh hushes him, helps him, keeps the light touches coming. He’s not sure when the sleep comes, but the pounding in his head loosens its grip on him, giving him a momentary release until the early alarm kicks him in the head all over again.

 

*

 

Tyler does get sick after that. Really it’s no surprise; what starts with easily ignorable stuff in his nose and throat always ends up pulling him into bed and making sure to also keep him there.

If only his current life would grant him the privilege to do so. There were still interviews to do, places to attend, people to meet - and shows to play.

Their tight schedule doesn’t allow them much free time. They’re basically spending all days indoors, despite their constant traveling from one country to the next.

They’re somewhere in Europe (Tyler can’t tell where and he thinks that Josh can’t either,) when they’re settled in their room. Sick of all the hurried pacing and breathing in the dry air of the hotels, Josh decides to take a walk while Tyler is nursing the last bits of his flu.

He’s sitting at the edge of the bed, tired and jealous of all the energy Josh can squeeze out of himself when Tyler has never felt more drained himself.

“Do you even know where we are?” Tyler retorts as Josh is crouched on the floor with his phone in his hand, his salty tone making Josh to look at him.

”No idea,” Josh answers with a smile on his face as he gets up and zips his jacket closed before walking to Tyler and setting his hand behind his head. “Try to take some rest, okay? I’m going with Mark. We’ll be back soon, and probably bring some food with us.”

Tyler hums, sounding more pissed than he’d like.

It doesn’t stop Josh from looking him in the eye and smiling, smiling, smiling. “Any preferences?” he continues his babbling. “Or you could come with us, if you want.”

Tyler shakes his head to all three, tapping at his throat despite the soreness having eased. “I’ll wait.”

Josh presses a kiss on his hair, pulling away soon after.

“Okay. Take a nap. I’ll be back in time.”

At that, Tyler nods, trying to hold on to the feeling of Josh’s lips on him. His fingers fiddle around each other as he watches Josh’s back leave the room. The door closes, and a dreading silence falls around him. Warily, Tyler climbs to his feet, walking quickly to the window to watch the two friends flee all four of the walls. It looks so easy, Tyler contemplates as he sees them put one foot in front of the other and quickly merging with the bustle of the big city.

Mark has his camera with him. They’re going to film, give the footage that everyone thirsts for. Tyler’s mouth pulls into a frown. He wanted to go, he really did. But he can’t. He just has this _feeling_ that something is going to go horribly wrong if he does, and it doesn’t want to let go of him.

Soon enough, he knows why. He’s having another anxiety attack in the middle of the day. One minute he felt fine, bearable at least, but then it started paining.

Tyler lies on his bed that he’s never lied on before with his legs hanging over the edge, raking his fingers below his ribs like harrows to alleviate the painful pressure in his chest. There’s a bubble in his lungs, sharp and heavy, pestering his breathing and hurting him like a burning bite of a hungry beast.

Tyler presses. And he presses. He wants to force it out, but the feeling spreads to his throat, clenching it tightly to keep what lies inside him intact.

It hurts to breathe. Tyler swallows desperately. He turns onto his side to see if it’s any help, only to get his eyes locked on an analog clock on the wall.

It ticks on the wall like a pesky time bomb. Tyler watches the minutes go by. They have another interview in a few hours. If he doesn’t manage to pull himself back together before that, they have to cancel the whole thing, or Josh has to go by himself which he refuses to do if he sees Tyler like this. Not that he even enjoyed the whole interview thing in the first place. Josh hates talking in front of people. However their audience might not know it, but Tyler needs Josh just as much as Josh needs him to step in front of those cameras sometimes.

And if they do- Tyler dreadfully realizes- there will be questions. They might ask about the incident with the fans, they might ask that what it is that has caused their shows recent lack of energy. To ask of they were losing it. Just anything that could cause drama and get the click baits going, Tyler hates it.

Tyler shuts his eyes, rocking against the bed sheets, gritting his teeth together. He doesn’t want to leave this room. He wants the day to be over but prays for the second hand to stop moving at the same time.

He wants Josh to come back but not to see him like this. His mind is in the middle of yet another conflict, and he can’t pull it to a stop like this.

So he gets up, and goes to his backpack. Rummaging through the pockets, Tyler finds a familiar packet of anxiety pills he’s fought so hard to get rid of. But he needs them. Pulling them out, Tyler ignores yet another constrict in his throat that comes with it.

He doesn’t have anything to powder it with. Tyler’s breathing hitches. Looking around helplessly, he tries to find a way to get the damned thing down.

His swelling eyes land on Josh’s bag. Sitting in a side pocket of it is a little carton of something, the soothing turquoise color of it pulls Tyler’s attention to it. Tyler scrambles up to take it, finding a packet of protein drink in his hand. Tyler shakes it. It’s thicker than just a drink, feeling almost like a milkshake. He pulls the cork open with his trembling hands, taking a wary sniff of it at first. Always choosy, he’s almost happy read the label as chocolate flavor. He can go with that.

With great effort, Tyler halves the thick chalky pill between his thumbs and forefinger to drop them inside. He pushes the cork back on, and shakes the thing back and forth again. He sits on the floor with his back against the bed frame, feeling for the fuzzy carpeting beneath him and squeezing the bottle between his knees.

 _Don’t think about it too much_ , Tyler tells to himself, nervously fiddling with the round piece of plastic in his hand. Tyler laughs shakily. It’s like his anxiety to take a single pill has overdriven the reason why he was even trying to take it in the first place.

It’s not his first time fighting with the same thing. You’d think that he’s good at it by now, but it takes time for him to even start trying most of the time.

His chest is still hurting. Tyler closes his eyes. He downs the drink warily and hopes that Josh doesn’t remember buying it.

 

*

 

Josh never saw that something was wrong when he woke Tyler up. They drove early to the venue to eat their lunch in the car on their way there, a good selection of Chinese take away. Why they decided to do that in the car, Tyler does not know, but Josh is doing a good job smearing half of his rice and chicken sauce across his front, making the whole ordeal even more amusing.

“Take the spoon you dork, we’ll never get out of here if you try to finish the job with chopsticks,” Tyler muses and puts his own into his mouth, trying to wake up and pass the steady stream of people from lulling him back to sleep as they walked towards their destination. They’re parked on the side of a nearby park at Tyler’s wishes so they could look at their fans gather together. They’re carrying signs and even each other, wrapping themselves in warm clothes to wait for the doors to open.

Tyler smiles fondly as he watches two girls giving a piggyback ride to each other. He yawns, still fuzzy after a short spurt of rest he managed to snatch, the pill making him sleepy. Getting his ears clogged up amidst it all, Tyler snaps out of it as Josh calls out his name as if he’d been doing it for a while already.

“Huh?”

“The spoon, Tyler. I admitted my defeat.”

“Oh. Here,” Tyler says and shovels it into Josh’s food, bringing it back up to feed him himself. Josh laughs, and takes it into his mouth and presses his lips together so Tyler can ease it back out clean.

“I used to be better at this,” Josh licks the grain of rice from the corner of his mouth.

“At what,” fills the spoon again and giving Josh a next round.

“With chopsticks,” Josh answers and pouts, taking the spoon from Tyler and keeping up by himself like a grown ass man he is.

Tyler leans back onto his seat. “You’re good with plenty of other sticks,” he winks innocently.

“Yeah, but they don’t serve my my meal as well as these ones.”

Tyler snorts, not sure what they’re talking about anymore. He glances back outside, a security officer instructing the sea of people about something he’s not so sure of.

Josh steals a frittered piece of chicken from Tyler’s meal. He pretends that he doesn’t notice. When Josh’s hand comes back, Tyler slaps it playfully.

“Hands to yourself, sneak thief,” he threatens and Josh laughs with his mouth full of food.

“Eat, dude,” he says with humor and goes back to his own food.

Tyler’s heart eases. Josh knows how to bring his spirit up.

 

*

 

But it’s the show that keeps his hope up.

There’s an electric currency running through his feet. Tyler runs and he jumps, he sings and he listens. The lyrics that he wrote are screamed back at him with a power he could never muster alone, a force to get the message across with Josh helping to deliver it.

It’s like Tyler wakes up only at the end of the show when Josh wraps his arm around him. Tyler swallows with his throat dry and skin wet, raising his arm before bowing down, an invincible feeling of belonging encircling him.

The sweat on his skin dries up before getting replaced with steam of a hot shower. The foamy shower gel flows down his body with the soothing water that drips from his hair. Tyler shuts down the tap, blinking cautiously to make sure the rinsed shampoo doesn’t get to bite at his eyes.

The water dribbles, steam dissipates, and Tyler’s eyes focus again; feeling still out of breath, he watches the soaped water run down his middle, his stomach, slower and slower and lower. His hands hang limply around his frame, the aftermath of the show still resounding in his ears.

Tyler swipes his drenched hair up, bringing his right hand up to his chest. Pressing, touching, Tyler travels down his body to chase after the remaining foam.

Josh is showering in the booth next to him. Through the bleary glass, Tyler can see him gliding his hands over his wet, soapy skin, washing off the sweat their show left behind. The sight stirs something familiar in him, and Tyler rests his hand on his crotch. Two of his fingers feel for his limp length as he hears Josh sigh in content, the downfall of the shower caressing his upbeat muscles. With his hands in his hair, Josh’s eyes must be closed as he breathes through the falling water in strong spurts, meeting the falling stream with his face and smearing the red paint all over it.  And Tyler watches him, opening his palm now and nearly wrapping his fingers around himself at the sounds Josh makes.

He’s so caught up in his blaring senses that he jumps when a fist drives its way on the door at the opposite side of the room.

It’s Michael’s voice that reaches his ears. “Fifteen minutes, you guys. Chop chop,” he urges them and leaves.

Josh shuts off the vent then, shaking off the water in his lowly hanging hair like a soaked puppy.

In the booth next to him, Tyler wants to bust his head on the tiles. Guess he has to do this some other time.

 

*

 

It’s late at night when they arrive to the next hotel. Having snatched a poor handful of sleep despite a relatively even ride, Tyler rubs his eye behind Josh’s back who cranes his head, complaining about a sore neck to Mark.

Given a chance to sit down, Tyler’s body starts shutting down again as they wait getting signed in the hotel.

Apparently there’s an apprentice receptionist getting used to her new job. The mere size of their group is enough to get her nervous as they barge in. She starts looking for the right files on her computer, profusely apologizing for the wait. However she’s quick to get a hang of it and hands over their right card keys. She might recognize them. Tyler is not sure. But she served them well.

The crew separates their own way. Taking the elevator to the higher levels, Tyler’s head is nodding off as Josh’s hand rubs his back. The lift feels like a cocoon of micro sleep as the bell rings, rousing Tyler back to full consciousness he didn’t realize he’d lost on their way.

Another hotel, another room, they worm their way inside. Having no idea what time it is, Tyler lets go of the handle of his suitcase as Josh dumps his bag on the floor.

A small lamp at the cramped hallway flicks on. The room is small, a convenient space, since they need it for a short amount of time only.

Tyler shrugs his coat off his shoulders, not bothering with hangers. His shoes are untied, black laces poked inside to make them easier to remove. Josh is crouched beside him, tugging off his own boots. Tyler watches his fingers work, pulling the zipper down with a familiar sound that forces him to quiver.

Feeling a sudden urge, Tyler presses a quick kiss to the corner of Josh’s lips when he comes back up. He’s about to pull away when something makes him stop. Why leave it at that? They haven’t had sex in days, maybe for weeks as it seemed to him, with their schedule too crazy to steal time from sleep.

The thought makes him frown. Tyler opens his eyes, slowly distancing himself only to find Josh staring back at him.

Maybe it’s not a good idea. But he smells Josh’s shower gel, and he’s thinking about what was about to happen earlier in the venue today. It’s enough, and Josh seems to get the idea despite the weird timing, for he backs Tyler to the wall without a second thought.

The unexpected direction towards the wall instead of the bed gets Tyler off guard, and their unbalanced stepping backward and forwards makes him wobbly on his feet. However there’s no force behind their actions as his back comes in contact with the smoky green wall. He can only recognize the familiar tips of fingers on his face, so careful they’re hardly there. Tyler sets his hands on Josh’s neck like that, feeling the slight bristle with his thumbs as Josh warms up the cold on his cheeks and brings his lips to his temple to kiss him there.

“Do you want to?” Josh asks then, hovering his way back to Tyler’s front again.

Tyler nods. “I want you.”

The words come in a whisper, as if they’re afraid that someone else might hear them.

Josh looks him in the eyes that Tyler knows look haunted with tiredness. So he closes them, taking a hold of Josh’s waist and pulling him by his shirt, capturing his lips in a sloppy kiss.

It doesn’t take much time.

“Please, Josh.”

Backpacks and suitcases long forgotten, they find their way to the foreign bed. Laying down, Josh grabs the hem of Tyler’s shirt, and Tyler allows it to be pulled up and over his head nice and easy.

It goes to the floor. Josh leans down until their lips meet again, having a good handful of Tyler’s skin in his grasp. It’s soft at first - tender, but when Josh’s hands roam his back and sides and start their travel down, Tyler adds more pressure on his part, and is met with more than what he had originally intended. Lips enveloped repeatedly, a little bit of tongue joins the game as Josh slides his out, tracing along Tyler’s bottom lip before bringing it together with Tyler’s, pulling noises from him as Tyler carefully tugs on Josh’s hair, palming him with his other hand.

Tyler’s sweatpants come off easily after that, casted away as Josh drops them down to the floor next to his shirt to take care of his own.

Josh is hard. He never ceases to amaze Tyler who props himself on his elbows for a second to admire his lover’s body. He can hear his slightly labored breathing that comes from utter arousal, making his chest heave and Tyler’s own ache from the simple love that he has for Josh.

Tyler is so engrossed in looking at him that he falls a tad behind when Josh kisses him again. Their usual rhythm is off, but Tyler is quick to restore it before Josh brings his hips down, grinding against him. Tyler eases the movements with his own. He pulls his head back, freeing space that Josh is quick to claim as his own to plant wet kisses against his pulse and collarbone. Tyler shivers, frowning. Cautious, he dares quick glance down where their bodies meet, frowning quietly as the usual spark doesn’t light itself.

Grinding against him again and again, Josh moves as if looking for the right spot for both of them. But it’s only when Josh’s hand dips and rests at the front of his boxer briefs, Tyler can feel him stop just a millisecond in surprise, before taking him in his hand and starting to stroke him slowly. Tyler is about to moan, he really is, but even the softest sigh in his voice gets caught in his throat as he barely feels any stirring in him with Josh rubbing his palm against the fabric of his underwear.

He yearns for the right feeling. Tyler takes in a breath and then another, rolling his head and his hips at the same time his hands on Josh’s shoulders keep moving, wordlessly asking him to keep going.

However Josh’s concern starts showing in his actions after a while. He says _Tyler,_ and they both start growing worried. Tyler lifts his hips, toeing as he ask Josh for help to remove his underwear.

“Can you-“ he starts with Josh following through.

The pile of clothes next to their bed grows. Josh turns back, meeting with Tyler’s troubled eyes but radiating his usual calmness.

“Let’s do it again,” Tyler says with a shaken up voice, and they do, repeating the touches, repeating the kisses, but they find no aid in their actions.

“Touch me,” Tyler tells him, and Josh does.

“Massage the shaft,” Tyler asks, and Josh does.

Tyler frowns. “Try lube,” he says and his words make Josh nod and leave him for a second to go to his bag.

And Josh comes back, doing as he’s told and carefully tightening his fist and moving it firmly in his newly slicked up hand.

Tyler puts his head back on the pillow. He’s barely half-hard in Josh’s hand. Josh flicks his wrist in the exact way Tyler likes it, he spreads his legs, trying to concentrate on the feeling, but something’s off. The wave doesn’t grow in highness, nor does it grow in power, and Tyler is forced to look back up.

Josh thumbs the tip of his cock at the same time. The feeling makes him uneasy. Tyler winces as if he was in pain. It doesn’t feel good at all.

Josh stops his actions immediately.

“Too sensitive?”

“No, it’s just… it doesn’t feel good,” Tyler stammers, knowing full well how ridiculous he sounds. His blood seems to be in a fit of confusion about the right direction. Tyler feels it as his cheeks grow hot and his dick runs cold.

Josh sits back up then, moving to massage Tyler’s thighs instead. Clearly uncertain how to proceed from there, Tyler sees the trouble in Josh’s eyes and panics.

So he gets up on his arms, and kisses him. It’s not returned at the same fervor, but it’s returned.

“Here,” Tyler separates himself from Josh. “Let me,” he says, and looks down, shifting slightly back to get more space between their tangled legs.

Josh only nods, and follows Tyler’s gaze down to their laps.

Tyler’s hand reaches its way down, swiping the hoodie that Josh was still wearing out of his way and diving into his underwear, curling it around Josh’s length. Josh’s head jerks back the slightest, a familiar sigh that Tyler is almost jealous to milk out of his boyfriend releases itself at the same time. But it’s tense, Tyler doesn’t need to hear it twice to know this, yet he doesn’t know how to read it without upsetting himself.

So he tries not to do it, ignoring it as Josh comes back to his level, their foreheads pressed together. They use the same air and share it as Tyler keeps going, pulling Josh’s underwear even lower while wishing to free him from the last unnecessary layer.

However he’s growing sloppy from the very beginning. Tyler wants to concentrate on Josh, to make him feel good, but his hands won’t stop shaking when his troubled mind is breathing weight onto his quivering spine and taking a hold of him. His strokes are slow and uneven, a pathetic thing to watch as the head of Josh’s cock disappears into his fist until he moves it back down,nearly stopping there.

“Tyler,” Josh says again then, putting his own hand on top of Tyler’s to stop his movements. “We don’t have to do this now.”

“Mm,” Tyler mumbles miserably as he mimics Josh to rub his thumb against the tip of his cock that pokes out from beneath his hoodie, reluctant to give up on his task just yet but getting no pleasure from pleasing his boyfriend. Josh is pink, as pink as the color of his hair and straining for attention, but the mood is gone, and Tyler can’t return it.

His own erection is completely flagged now.

The shame brings tears to his eyes.

“Tyler,” Josh says painedly and his tone alone is nearly enough to let the first tear roll down Tyler’s cheek. Then there’s one that does break free, it’s just the last fucking straw, Tyler breaks; the salt feels hot against his blushing skin, even, and Tyler’s lip wavers with a flinch, embarrassed for letting it escape as he dries the wet trails off in haste.

“This has never happened before,” he says with distraught, refusing to meet Josh’s eyes. Can’t he just have this one thing?

He tucks Josh under his hoodie as if to keep him warm there. Taking a hold of the hem with to trembling hands, Tyler kneads the soft fabric to ground himself at the same time Josh speaks, interrupting his dark thoughts.

“I know. But it’s okay, you don’t have to feel bad about it, okay? These things happen. But it’s like, going to pass,” Josh soothes him with his words and his hands, and Tyler can’t help himself as his mouth opens to allow his words to the open air.

“It’s not because of you,” Tyler is quick to clarify, and his words bring a huff and a sad smile on Josh’s face who swings his arms over Tyler’s shoulders to pull him into a hug.

“Oh, dude,” Josh says. “You’re thinking about a zillion things at the same time again.”

“I wanted to do it,” Tyler sniffles sadly against Josh’s shoulder, his hands hanging limply in his lap. It comes out muffled, but Josh hears him anyway as he lays his touch on the back of Tyler’s head, warming him up. His gentle smile drops into an understanding.

“I know Tyler,” he says with an honest tone. “But you don’t have to be ashamed of it, hey? I’m sorry about my own reaction earlier, when… I guess it just surprised me. You know how things go normally.”

Tyler nods. “I didn’t expect it for a second either,” he admits shakily, and warily inches away from his hiding to finally chance a look at Josh’s eyes, wiping his runny nose. The gaze holds no judgement, and Tyler feels himself calming down the slightest. “It must be the stress, and I was already feeling better but… I’m just not good with this hasty pace a-and just… just fucking everything-“

Josh hums, and it’s enough to pull his tirade to an end.

“I’m not ready for these grandpa symptoms,” Tyler slashes one more time and Josh laughs, easing the tense atmosphere.

“You’re not that old yet Tyler, come on. Besides, I’m older than you.”

“How soothing.” It comes out with a rueful smile.

Josh sighs reassuringly. “Don’t worry about that Tyler. We’ll keep an eye on it, and see what’s gonna happen. Okay? No worries.”

Tyler nods unsurely, earning himself a kiss that pushes him onto his back and has him half lying under Josh. His warmth makes him feel better as their lips caress against each other, a soothing end for the mess he’d cause. But when Josh opens his mouth after a while, he realizes that he can’t just fall asleep like this.

“Do you want to sleep naked or should we gather your clothes back up?”

Tyler glances up, taking the sight quickly in; he’s still completely naked with Josh lying nearly fully clothed beside him.

Tyler blushes. This is definitely their worst attempt at having sex.

 

*

 

The European leg of tour is coming to an end. The last show is in Paris before they head home for the long awaited Christmas preparations.

They can go home. To meet their families and get some much needed time off before the North American tour sets them back on the road again.

Tyler doesn’t want to think about setting off before even having rested his head on his own pillow in their own bedroom in their own house that he preferably doesn’t have to leave for a few upcoming days.

Josh is looking forward to decorating everything for the holidays. His excitement is contagious, Tyler realizes when Josh babbles about going to a spruce farm together to hunt down the most pitiful little tree that no one else would otherwise buy, screaming _Timber!_ and covering his ears when the tiny spruce would tip forward. They’re hoping to make it their stupid Christmas tradition.

Tyler is looking forward to seeing Josh swing an axe. Or just a tiny saw, now that he thinks about it. But they’re not in Ohio yet, and Tyler has to remind himself to concentrate on the present again, because one - they’re in a restaurant, and two, Josh is looking fucking amazing.

He’s way too handsome in his all-black clothes with the long silver necklace hanging on his chest, glistening in the candle light in the dimmed down room. And he’s wearing a good set of combat boots. Tyler could melt like the tallow on the decoration of candles set between them as he keeps stealing quick glances from the menu, not admitting that the moment felt like a lame movie scene with the elegant music and a live pianist playing at the other corner of the room. What is Paris.

Only the subtitles are lacking, for he can’t understand a thing that people around them are saying.

They’re in a restaurant to celebrate the end of the tour and the nearing turn of the year in a head start. Knowing that all the restaurants would be stack full with people towards the end of December, they take a chance to enjoy the good vintage of wine and each other’s company with no rush in their shoes.

Tyler feels awkward with the whole etiquette with the appetizers and all. He doesn’t know which spoon he’s supposed to grab first and tries frantically come up with a reason for the smallest fork on the left before giving up, feeling even more stupid as he goes to pick up the biggest spoon as their soup arrives, the fancy French title wiped out of his mind a long time before.

The waiter muses something delicately in French as he serves them their meals.

They both ordered shrimps for the starters. Tyler has no idea how a simple soup could look so tasty. Steaming temperately, Tyler fixes his position as he stares at his plate with wide eyes.

“I’ll never leave this place,” he whispers in one go, making Josh laugh.

“I think we might have made a mistake coming here.”

“Yeah, because I’ll eat you to bankruptcy,” Tyler says and pokes the creamy dish with his spoon.

“Your birthday is coming up. Nothing bad about letting go every once in a while, right?”

“Oh, so that’s what it was all about,” Tyler smiles and takes the first spoonful into his mouth. The flavors explode on his tongue, and it only gets better after the second one. Tyler could moan, but he restrains himself just in time. “So good.”

There’s nothing like spending the night with good food alongside your significant other, their idle talk goes on; it was Josh’s idea going fine-dining, making the outstanding dinner the highlight of the day.

But Tyler gets distracted, and they’re haven’t even set on the main course yet. There’s something about Josh that just hits him harder tonight. It’s just one of those moments he realizes how madly he’s in love and how lucky he’s gotten, snatching a man like that all for himself.

Tyler draws in a breath, putting the glossy spoon down unawarely. The food was _perfect,_ but Josh is stealing all his attention to himself, dulling his taste receptors and making him crave for something sweeter all too soon.

Tyler swallows, licking his lips and shifting on his seat. On the opposite side of the table, Josh sits oblivious, slipping the spoon into his mouth more elegantly than Tyler has ever seen. A fucking chameleon, Josh fuses with his environment like a drop of water in the ocean. He can’t believe that all the nights they’ve spent at these cheap fast food restaurants would eventually bring them here.

Josh takes another spoonful towards his mouth at the same time Tyler’s blood rushes south. He presses his tongue against the tip of his sharp canine to smother a gasp. He’s not even thinking about anything particularly erotic, however the growing tightness in his dress pants is stirring him to do so.

Oh god. He was definitely getting hard.

Josh takes a notice of all the squirming opposite him.

“What’s wrong? Are you…” Josh begins with and Tyler nods, and it’s beyond him how Josh can read him like an open book sometimes because the second their eyes meet, Josh puts his hands on the table top, looking like a deer in the headlights before getting up, taking a firm hold of Tyler’s hand to coax him to follow him.

Maybe he just has the natural arousal in his damn eyes all the time.

“Wait!” Tyler stops, pulling him back. “We can’t just leave,” he says, though the hard-on between his legs is screaming otherwise. Timidly, Tyler clears his throat, bashfully moving his hand to hover over his crotch for coverage. He feels suddenly bare with all the people around them. “We have already ordered,” he croaks, quickly turning his head back to Josh as he notices an elderly woman looking at the ruckus they’ve caused, scanning him up and down and hopefully missing the tent in his pants.

Tyler fumbles with his pockets furiously, cheeks burning with the color of roses. “I only have my card,” he groans, gliding his fingers all the way to the fake back pockets.

Josh still pays no mind to the other people. So much for high manners, his gaze is a hawk as he tries to spot a waiter to take accept their payment.

They’re all taken. There’s a big group of people entering the dining hall, waiters and butlers swarm all around them, politely bowing and guiding them to their reservation.

“Oh, _fuck,”_ Josh blurts like a sailor then, and more people definitely turn to look at them, some even gasping.

“Wait!” Tyler exclaims, a spark flickering. He quickly detaches his red phone case and fishes a hundred euro bill out of it. “I can’t believe I have this.”

Josh doesn’t even cringe at the horrid change. He’ll make up for it. “Leave it!”

Tyler does, slapping the note against the table as they swarm their way through the tables, pulling the rest of the lacking attention to themselves, and somehow the sharp gaze of the elderly lady makes Tyler drag his own to his shoes, however it can’t stifle the smile he just can’t control as Josh pulls him with him.

They leave the restaurant in haste. The headwaiter gives them a dumbfounded look as they throw a tight smile his way, and with a muscle straining grimace ask to get their coats back.

 

*

 

The drive back to the hotel is unbearable. Wondering whether blue balls are a real thing, Tyler is counting every single pole of the street lamps their car passes by.

“Oh, my god,” Tyler hisses, his muscles nearly forcing him to double over.

“Hold on bud, hold on,” Josh tells him, rubbing his thumb against Tyler’s hand with his other arm thrown over his shoulder. Josh kisses him on his temple, Tyler thinks he’s clutching Josh’s hand a bit too tight.

Their taxi drops them off right in front of the hotel entrance. Running right back to the elevator, Tyler taps the control obscenely. Josh makes a joke about his beats per minute. They get in.

The elevator stops, the doors slide open, and they rush out. Josh is still holding his hand as they slide around the corner, a poor resident gets caught in their hurricane of boyish hormones, gasping a surprised _oh!_ as they pass her by, not slowing for a second.

Key card in, a green light flashes. Tyler jumps right in, feeling Josh’s hand push him from behind.

He doesn’t have enough time to throw his jacket off and turn around before Josh knocks him against the wall.

“Are you hard, Tyler? You’re so fucking hard right now aren’t you?” Josh speaks against his face, breath hitching from the mere excitement of just being so close to each other again, his fingers pressing against his throat as his thumbs rub against Tyler’s cheeks.

Tyler can only nod, moaning helplessly as Josh comes even closer, grinding their hard-ons against each other.

“I feel you, dude, I feel you,” he says, hips pressed tightly together.

“Oh,” Tyler can barely get out before Josh is on him, making him moan yet again however quickly swallowing the noises with his lips. Tyler’s arms are trapped in his half removed jacket sleeves, pressing hard against his back as Josh presses him into the wall with a pressure that feels more familiar now, kissing him.

Overwhelmed with desire, Tyler wildly swings his shoulders in their trap and whimpers, struggling to free his hands to touch, he wants to touch Josh so bad, but he can’t.

“Josh,” Tyler pleads as his last resort.

The sounds he makes do their thing, Josh gives him space which is not exactly what he wants, but he helps the stupid jacket off and away from him and says the words he wanted to hear the most. “Come on,” comes the order huskily, giving Tyler’s arm another tug. Tyler follows without a question.

However Josh’s warm hands go around his waist, Tyler gets pushed to the bed with one firm spin, a gait too short to be called a dance, Tyler is falling. Josh’s hands are quick to find their way back home, pulling the shirt from his pants and slipping beneath to roam the trembling skin there. Upwards it goes, fabric softly rustling, Josh’s fingers can nearly reach his chest. Tyler could choke.

Josh pulls his hand back with a growl.

“Of all days, you decided to wear a fucking button up just today,” Josh curses, his fingers coming out to get the tabs open, eager to feel more of his skin so he can bring him to a high he’ll not forget for a while.

“Fucking hell,” Tyler can’t help but agree, starting to free himself from the top.

Their hands bump against each other. Confused whether they got them all, Tyler looks down as Josh looks up. Getting over their clumsy little moment, they press forth as they more or less rip the shirt out of their way.

Josh moves up, using his mouth to leave openly generous kisses along Tyler’s newly exposed chest, his collar, his neck.

The trail stops at Tyler’s lips. The kiss is hard, persistent. It makes Tyler’s head spin. He’s so hard and dizzy, he nearly misses Josh’s next words.

“You can fuck me Tyler,” Josh decides, the unexpected words nearly knocking the air out of his lungs. “Please,” he urges as they separate with Tyler arching his neck, trying to chase after Josh’s mouth before processing his words fully.

Tyler blinks. “What?”

“Fuck me Tyler. I’m all yours,” Josh hisses loudly, a thin coat of sweat on his face giving the slightest sheen of glint to it.

“Okay,” Tyler blurts as if he still didn’t comprehend the words. However his body moves on autopilot as he spins Josh on his back, quickly settling on a familiar position between the other’s legs. “Okay,” he says again, more strongly. Getting back a fragment of all the recently lost air, Tyler’s eyes focus as he stares down at Josh’s head trapped between his arms. They breathe hard. Tyler faces Josh, and Josh faces Tyler.

“God, I love it when you look at me like this,” Josh says and bites his lower lip, making Tyler’s muscles nearly give out beneath him.

But they don’t. Instead, Tyler leans down himself, capturing Josh in one more kiss and two long, slow but hard grinds against his hard-on.

“I’ll be right back,” Tyler pulls back with a gasp, starting to get up. “Get these things off you for me,” he growls, groping a good fistful of Josh’s shirt in his hand, nearly yanking his back off the mattress.

Tyler leaves the bed, hearing the stripping of clothes behind his back. He shivers at the sound, closing his eyes briefly before crouching down to his suitcase and nearly winching as his erection rubs painfully against his dress pants. Right. He’s gotta work on that too.

The heavy thumps of Josh’s boots hit the floor. Tyler turns around with a bottle of lube fished out of his suitcase at the same time Josh’s jeans drop to the floor, just as messy as everything else.

Josh is naked, propped up on his elbows as he waits for Tyler to join him. Only the necklace remains. Tyler gets up, blowing out as he takes the sight in. For a fleeting moment, the intense burn of lust in the pit of his stomach gets replaced with the one of adoration. Tyler’s knees grow weak. It’s suddenly harder to breathe again.

Josh lies back down, slowly pumping himself in his dry fist and gathering pre-come, making a face and reminding him what they were exactly at. “Bring it, dude,” Josh says impatiently, and Tyler wakes up back to the reality.

He tosses the tube on the bed, freeing his hands to swarm his fingers around his belt buckle, unbuttoning his pants and finally, easing the zipper down with an utter sigh of relief.

Once free, Tyler scrambles back on the bed where he belongs. Josh’s legs wrap around his middle, bringing him even closer.

“Give it to me hard,” Josh says between deep kisses. “Don’t make me last.”

“I’ll prep you,” Tyler breathes between kisses. “Do it so well and slow,” he promises, nearly smiling as Josh groans and steals one more touch against his chest before Tyler recedes, popping the familiar bottle open.

Tyler coats his fingers, slick sounds ensuing. Shifting on his knees, Tyler allows another shiver run through his spine as the cold liquid eats its way under his skin. Josh knows that he wants to wait until it absorbs his body heat, and there’s so much heat inside of him right now, but it’s not enough to pamper the other’s patience.

“It’s cold,” Tyler warns but reaches down, looking at Josh shaking his head with a smile on his face. Tyler squints his eyes the slightest, taking in Josh’s reaction as his fingers come in contact with his hole, circling around his entrance. Josh rolls his shoulders, slightly pressing up from the mattress at the sensation, and Tyler wants to make a witty comment so bad but catches himself, figuring it would be better to get on with his task.

The first finger presses past the tight ring of muscle slowly, feeling for the heated walls around his digit. Carefully Tyler adds more lube, tonguing his lower lip pressed flat by his teeth as his blood boils between his legs.

Another finger joins the other. In and out, Tyler moves them with practiced certainty. Josh is quick to adjust to the feeling, his body visibly relaxing. Watching Josh’s jaw drop open under his touch, Tyler can’t help but voice,

“You’re so hot,” he husks, keeping on with his two digits moving in and out of Josh’s ass, working him open. “Made me so hard from the mere sight of you,” he continues and gets nearly interrupted as Josh kisses him, hot and fervent.

Josh is so persistent that Tyler’s fingers curl into a hook, dragging against his walls. He must have done the right thing with the pads of his fingers, because Josh slumps back down and makes a sound, the one that is impossible to mistake for anything else, and Tyler keens at the power it has over him. Lowering himself against his arm and providing himself a short sense of aid, Tyler presses against Josh’s prostate with purpose and forces Josh to voice his pleasure, louder. Tyler shifts again, coming even lower and waving his hips slowly but firmly with his fingers still inside of Josh, moving as if he was already fucking him. He adds a third amidst it all, and Josh is ready.

“Oh,” Josh gasps.

“Please,” he groans. “Fuck me Tyler.”

One more push before withdrawing, they both make their own sounds of pleasure and groan at the lack of contact. Tyler teeters upon blindly searching for the lube, hand frantic and missing the bottle twice as his eyes are too occupied with Josh laying naked beneath him.

Wasting no more time, Tyler lathers his cock with lube. His head falls back at the sensation, a delicious relieve eases off the pressure around his pulsating blood vessels as his hand moves around his erection.

Hoisting Josh’s leg up, Tyler takes a good hold of Josh’s hips to line himself up and eases himself inside. Tyler’s head falls back at the same time of Josh’s low moan. The earlier sensation comes back to him a hundred times stronger, better than any other slot he could ever fill.

Bottoming out slowly, Tyler makes sure that Josh has adjusted enough. However Josh’s leg slips down and swarms its way around Tyler once again, locking him in place. “Do it,” Josh urges, and Tyler can only close his eyes and get lost in the feeling of Josh all around him.

Staring into the blackness amps up the rest of his senses. Tyler picks up the pace vigorously, driving himself into Josh the way he wanted. Opening his eyes again to study Josh’s face, Tyler keeps going until Josh is the one unable to hold his gaze anymore.

Tyler ducks down and swarms his hands under Josh to knead his ass, the unbalanced position shortly knocking them out of rhythm. Tyler slows down deliberately, kissing his neck, leaving behind red marks like furrows where his fingers rake upwards, drying his hand off of the remaining lube on Josh’s skin.

Josh’s heels press harder against the small of his back, crossing his spine to coil and lock the ardour between their moving bodies. Letting his dissatisfaction show in his tone, Josh pushes back, jolting Tyler hovering over him. Pressing his own head on the crook of Josh’s neck, Tyler finds a new leverage and locks his hands around Josh’s shoulders as Josh concentrates to holding onto his sides.

With the steady angle, Tyler starts moving in him, fucking him with earnest without temperating the other; the teasing was over before they really got into it, and neither of them really cared with too much accumulated inside of them; they haven’t done it as roughly in a good while now, bed frame groaning under the bouncing pressure, uniting with the steady stream of gasps and groans and audible intakes of breath.

Tyler gets high on adrenaline, his system jolting with raveling pleasure. He missed it, feeling his hair stick to his forehead for a different reason than the constant stream of the shows.

Josh shifts his hips suddenly and clearly getting what he craved for when a moan unwinds, the firm heels of Josh’s feet pressing harder against him, bruising, telling Tyler to stay right there where he is, only allowing the hard jerks of Tyler’s hips into him. Tyler is nearly smiling; knowing where to aim, Tyler gives Josh all he wants and nothing less, thickening the pace and squeezing his hands on Josh’s shoulders incredibly hard to show how bad he needs this as well.

Compared to Josh, Tyler’s moans come out as groans and growls, growing even more desperate.

Tyler’s eyes close. On this game they will not last long together.

To profit it, Tyler presses back against Josh’s damp skin, his noises muffled, attempting to suck a mark on it but growing too out of breath; Tyler bites, feeling Josh tense underneath him for all the right reasons as his hips form colors on their flesh.

Briefly opening his eyes again, Tyler can only vaguely recognize a fist moving between their bodies, hard knuckles scratching against his belly as he keeps pounding into Josh, chasing after their release.

Another clench of muscles ensue, once, twice, and the dam inside of him ruptures. Missing the edge completely, Tyler falls into the surge and crashes against Josh one more time, forcing his desperation out of his throat. His strained muscles finally give out beneath him, Tyler collapses-- like a flag growing out of wind, their bodies press together like two soggy leaves after the rain.

But Josh doesn’t let him. Pulling his head back up, Josh holds him in his hands and watches him, this time refusing to give a break to his gaze as he studies Tyler come down his personal peak, shaking. Josh glides his thumb against his dried up lip and lets him release the last of his spurt inside of him. A sudden spasm takes over, Tyler’s chin presses on his chest, feeling oversensitive; Josh is already teasing him despite Tyler is all out, pulling a shaky breath out of him as Josh meets his hips with two rolls of his own, and Tyler’s muscles quiver, the last of the waves licking through his entire body.

The sound of heavy breathing fills the room. When the highest of their euphoria subsides and Tyler comes back to his body, a frantic realization hits him like a sack of rocks.

“Did you…?”

Josh nods. “Yeah,” he says, brushing his hand against the bare skin of Tyler’s back.

It’s then when Tyler feels it- the hot wetness between their bodies sticks to their thighs and tummies, and even higher. Oh.

Tyler groans, completely spent. He pulls out slowly, grateful as he rolls to the side and partly flops down on top of Josh, feeling cuddly when Josh wraps his arm around him to keep him in place.

“What was that?” Josh asks in a hushed tone then, running his fingers up and down against the bony slot on Tyler’s shoulder.

“I don’t know,” Tyler answers, limp like a boiled spaghetti. “Shrimps make me horny, maybe.”

Josh laughs. “I didn’t mean that!”

Tyler breathes, huffing with a smile on his face. Climbing clumsily up, he rolls out of Josh’s grip to reach out for the tissues on the nightstand, however flopping onto his stomach and crawling forth as he can’t quite reach for the packet there.

Josh eyes his doings with a frown, accompanied by a low groan.

“Ew dude, now you just smeared the spunk all over the sheets!” Josh complains before jolting in disgust, starting to scramble up. “Wait, now I’m leaking too,” he blurts and hurries to the bathroom, cupping his palm between his legs to keep the mess intact, muttering something about _should’ve used a condom._

Tyler looks at Josh over his shoulder, lying flat on his stomach and laughing loudly. Allowing a quick glance at what dwells beneath him, Tyler arches his ass and sees the wet trails sheening in the dim lamp light on the fabric, too thick to dry off instantly.

He lowers his body back down, flailing his bare legs at the open door of the bathroom and Josh washing himself in the shower.

“Well. You’ll sleep on my right side anyway,” he retorts, earning a disapproving look from the other.

 

***

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
